The soul of sweet delight can never be defiled.

Shed no tear! O shed no tear!
The flower will bloom another year.
Weep no more! O weep no more!
Young buds sleep in the root's white core.

The flower is the poetry of reproduction. It is an example of the eternal seductiveness of life.

O flowers! the soul that faints or grieves
New comfort from your lips receives;
Sweet confidence and patient faith are hidden in your leaves.

Flowers are immortal. You cut them in autumn and they grow again in spring—somewhere.

A little longer yet — a little longer, Shall violets bloom for thee, and sweet birds sing; And the lime branches where soft winds are blowing, Shall murmur the sweet promise of the Spring!

A thing of beauty is a joy forever:
Its loveliness increases;
It will never
Pass into nothingness.

Pluck this little flower and take it, delay not! I fear lest it droop and drop into the dust.

I may not find a place in thy garland, but honour it with a touch of pain from thy hand and pluck it. I fear lest the day end before I am aware, and the time of offering go by.

Though its colour be not deep and its smell be faint, use this flower in thy service and pluck it while there is time.

No seed shall perish which the soul hath sown.

The flowers anew returning seasons bring!
But beauty faded has no second spring.

If I had a flower for every time I thought of you, I could walk in my garden forever.

When you like a flower, you pluck it. When you love a flower, you water it daily.

A thing of beauty is a joy forever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.

Gather the fleet flower of your youth, Take ye your pleasure at the best;
Be merry ere your beauty flit,
For length of days will tarnish it Like roses that were loveliest.